


The DJ Is Mine

by mmmdraco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek Hale, DJ Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's sisters drag him to a club and he maybe wants the DJ's hands all over him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The DJ Is Mine

**Author's Note:**

> The title and a few tiny elements of this fic are brought to you by the Wonder Girls (f. School Gyrlz) song "[The DJ Is Mine](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doXnuStEf2I)". It inspired the fic even if I didn't actually stick much to my initial concept.

Derek is pretty sure that his sisters both know exactly how much of an actual alpha male he is not. But, he looks that part enough that they have begged him to come with them to some dance club because they hear the door security isn't great but the drinks aren't really overpriced and there's better lighting than anywhere else in town. It's the idea of making sure of their safety that gets him to agree, even as they mention that maybe he'll meet a nice person to go home with himself. As though nice people are the ones you meet in a club and take home.

It's ridiculous, though. Cora and Laura could both take care of themselves, even in little black dresses and heels, and Derek's not the club kind of guy. When the bouncer lets them in, he's overwhelmed by the cloying smell of too much sweat and spilled drinks and perfume. The lights are brighter than the last club he'd been in and the music is loud and pulsing and unrecognizable. Granted, he tends to listen to 70s rock with the occasional 80s hair band power ballad thrown in for good measure, but it's just... a lot. Of everything. Too many people crowded the dance floor and Derek gets to watch as Cora and Laura wave him off as they slip between the throngs of people to dance. He heads to the bar and orders his favorite beer only to be told, "Sorry, sweetie. We don't keep that on tap." 

Groaning, Derek just asks for whatever the bartender recommends and sulks as he looks around the club again. There's a stage set up across from the bar and a table is set up with a DJ stationed there, moving with the music he's playing. His skin is lit up in swathes of neon light and Derek's frozen in place as he watches him. If anyone had asked him earlier in the day what his type was, he wouldn't have been able to say. Now, he can point to an example. This guy... his defined features and upturned nose and the scatter of moles over his skin with perfect lips mouthing the words to the songs... but that's nothing compared to his arms with their trim definition and the veins that stand out as he flips switches and turns knobs and whatever else is going on with the boards in front of him... and those hands. Derek wants them all over him. Long and slender, but strong. He's not aware his mouth is open as he watches the guy until he can feel a glass pushed into his hand. "Huh?"

"He's good, isn't he?" The bartender smirks and twirls one of her blonde curls around a finger as she watches him. "He plays all of this pop shit that everyone loves but the way he puts his twist on it makes it where I don't mind it. Right?" She looks at Derek expectantly.

Derek sips his beer and grimaces because it's not what he's used to, but it's also not bad. It's smoother than what he normally drinks and the aftertaste isn't as strong. It's then that he notices the bartender still looking at him. "Not what I'm used to," is all he says.

She shrugs and picks up a rag, wiping down the counters. "Guess not. You look like you belong in a biker bar." She smirks again. "I'm Erica. Call for me if you need me." And then she leaves him alone. To enjoy his beer and definitely not to just stare in awe at the DJ who has paused mid-song to grab a water bottle, guzzling it down while his free hand still works the board. And he doesn't have what is maybe the most attractive expanse of neck that Derek has ever seen. It's just that he can't remember anything better at the moment. Because of the lights and the smells and the three sips of beer.

Fuck. Well, DJ dude is certainly not going to be into him, or the kind of guy that Derek actually does want to take home, and he'd have to make contact anyway so it's okay to look because it won't come to anything. Only, then the bar is kind of crowded and there's a patch of wall that looks good to stand by because it's not as full of people and it's just a coincidence that it's closer to the DJ because, well, everything is, right? And if he stands there watching until Cora comes up and punches his shoulder because they're ready to go, well it's nothing. Just boredom and staying out of the way. Only, fuck. Laura mentions coming back the next night and Derek surprises the hell out of himself by volunteering to be the DD because, hey, he's actually not that much of a dick.

So they leave and come back less than 24 hours later and Derek plops himself back on a stool at the bar and orders water because, hey, DD. The bartender is the same and gives him a shrewd look as she pushes it toward him. "I didn't think you would be back."

"My sisters wanted extra security. Just in case." He opens the water bottle and downs a quarter of it in one long gulp.

Reaching over to squeeze his bicep, Erica grins. "Yeah, I can see that. A little muscle's always good." She glances up at the DJ, then back to Derek. "You sure you didn't come for the music?"

Derek glares at her until she finally shrugs before walking off to the other end of the bar. He drinks more of his water and tries to look at more than just the DJ. He's in a tight white t-shirt tonight with a v-neck and there's more throat exposed and a tiny hint of chest hair and Derek's pretty sure he's actually salivating. There are people dancing like they're trying to have sex with their clothes on, and he's watching the DJ like he's a full band instead of the conductor of an electric orchestra or something. Fuck. He's really gone if he's trending toward poetry in his head about a guy he's only even seen twice. He doesn't even know his name.

Laura comes over to grab a drink and snarks at Derek a little, and when he looks up again, the DJ is gone. The music is still playing, though, so maybe he's got a pre-made mix he tosses on or something. Only, as he turns back to the bar, he's suddenly encountering a tall guy with pale skin and moles and an upturned nose and veiny arms and fingers that he wants _in_ him, damn it. "Oh shit."

The guy laughs and gestures to Erica who raises her eyebrows and hands him a bottle of water. "Hey. I'm Stiles. I, uh, notice you watching me. You interested in getting into the DJ game or something?"

Derek takes another long glug of his water and forces himself not to splutter it everywhere. "Uh... no." He clear his throat and licks a droplet of water off of his lip and tries not to notice the whiskey color of Stiles' eyes. "What kind of name is Stiles?"

"It's a nickname, I guess. First name is unpronounceable if you're not used to Polish and doesn't lend itself to a short form, so I gets Stiles Stilinski. It's cool. I call myself DJ TurnStiles because I'll keep spinning as long as you keep paying. Anyway, if that's not it, then why have you kept staring at me for two nights now? Are you a new assassin and you're just not good at it? Because my dad's a sheriff and I think I'd be pretty good at avoiding most attacks except gunshots unless you shoot like a Storm Trooper." He paused. "Well?"

And it surprises the hell out of no one more than Derek when he looks Stiles in the eyes and says, "I was trying to figure the best way to get to suck your cock. And, I'm Derek."

Stiles' eyebrows shoot up and then his hand is grasping Derek's and he's being pulled into the bathroom and shoved into one of the stalls and Stiles is pushing him against the wall and Derek's dick is throbbing as it pushes against thick denim. "I really hope you were serious or else I've just made a huge fool of myself which probably won't be the first or last time tonight and, fuck, please just kiss me first to shut me up because my mouth just-"

Derek pulls Stiles' mouth to his own and cuts off his words, his teeth catching at Stiles' lips and his tongue tracing at the seam between them and then twining around Stiles' own and it feels like it's been forever since he's done this and he's been feeling kind of old because everything about this place screams youth and he's kind of a curmudgeon and is resistant to change, but the second Stiles ruts against his hip he just doesn't fucking care. He rushes to unbutton and unzip Stiles' pants and he pulls away from the kiss and drops to his knees in a nightclub bathroom stall of questionable cleanliness and pulls out Stiles' cock and wraps his lips around the head and starts to suck.

He's salty and bitter at first, but the more Derek works Stiles' cock over, the more he grows to kind of like it. There's a mole at the base of Stiles' cock buried under dark hair and Derek's eyes kind of stay in some strange back and forth between that and Stiles' gaze. He takes Stiles in deep and uses every technique he can think of to, what, prove his worth? Derek doesn't even know. He just wants this and feels like it's his only chance to be more than a blip on this guy's radar which, now that he thinks about it while he's got Stiles' dick wedged in his throat and is humming around it, Stiles said he noticed him both nights. And that's kind of the thing that makes Derek unbutton his own pants one-handed and pull himself out to stroke as he swallows around Stiles' length before pulling back and teasing the head with the tip of his tongue before sliding right back down with a groan. 

Stiles starts moving his hips at some point when Derek's jaw is just starting to ache and he's on the edge of his own orgasm and Derek pulls away, eyes watering slightly, to look up at him. "Fuck my mouth." He's back on Stiles' dick a second later and his eyes roll back just a little as Stiles grips his hair and starts to fuck into his mouth, just edging there against _too much_. Stiles lets out a groan a moment later and starts to pull back, but Derek holds him in place because lust is overwhelming him and he wants to taste Stiles' come. He drinks it down, savoring it, and lets his hand drop to his own erection once more, giving it a few more strokes to push himself over the precipice. He catches his come in his hand, though a little might have made it to the floor, and promptly licks it off of his fingers because the kind of toilet paper in the bathroom is the kind that acts like come is glue and he's already proven he swallows.

There's a low groan that echoes in the bathroom and then Stiles is pulling him up and kissing him again and groaning _into_ his mouth and Derek is kissing back and loving how the air between is hot and humid and full of the scent of sex. "You coming here tomorrow night?" Stiles pulls back to ask the question and Derek just stares at him for a moment.

"I... I could?" He knows he sounds like an idiot but he's a little come-dumb and he honestly hasn't been expecting any interest from the guy past this one encounter.

"Yeah," Stiles says softly and runs his hands through Derek's hair. "Come later or something? I'm off at two and then we'll... Fuck, we'll hit an all-night diner or something."

Derek licks his lips, unconsciously mirroring Stiles, and nods. "Yeah. Okay. Let's do that."

Stiles grins and kisses his quickly. "It's a date. But, I've got to get back out there because I can hear my mix is about to run out." He's zipped and buttoned back up a second later and then he's off and Derek goes out to wash his hands, feeling the tips of his ears burn at the sight of his wet, swollen lips. He waits a few minutes before heading back out to the bar, his sisters finding him almost immediately and declaring that it was time to leave. They hang onto him on the way to the car because they've both had just a little too much, but Derek doesn't mind because it keeps them from asking awkward questions.

The next day makes him glad he edits textbooks for a living because he can set his own schedule but they've both got work the next day. They won't try to come with him even if he accidentally slips up and says something. Only, he doesn't say anything. It's the lack of saying anything because he keeps remembering the way Stiles looks when he comes and remembers the feel of those fingers tugging at his hair and the way his eyes shine like amber and he gets distracted. Understandably so. It's Laura who figures out he's got a date, but Cora who hounds him until he tells them it's with the DJ from the club and then maybe he hides in his room until dinner and it's just awkward enough that no one asks any more questions.

He dresses with a little more care that night. His nice boxer briefs, a grey tank that shows off the muscles he's worked so hard for, jeans that took three hours to find because his thighs and glutes don't often like to work with skinny jeans... He takes his favorite leather jacket with him, but leaves it in his car when he gets to the club at one because it rained earlier and it's too humid to even think about leather.

And, okay, so he spends the next hour hydrating at the bar while Erica stares at him and gives every indication that she _knows_ without saying anything outright, and then it's two and the club is shutting down and Stiles gestures him closer to the stage and Derek tries to keep his wits about him and not just think with his cock even though it's dominating. "Hey."

Stiles grins and gestures for Derek to follow him through a back hallway and out into a small back parking lot with EMPLOYEES ONLY signs plastered around. "The Blue Jeep's mine. Hop in?"

He has to wait for Stiles to unlock it first, but he wedges himself into the passenger seat and tries to speak past the lump in his throat that is surely just more desire that doesn't fit wherever the rest of it normally resides. Stiles is quiet and Derek can't help but compare it to how he was when they were just starting to grope each other the previous night. They end up at some 50s themed diner and they get coffee and pancakes and they keep not talking until Stiles goes to pour sugar into his coffee from the canister on the table and the lid falls off and roughly three-quarters of a cup of sugar fall into his mug and overflow it so hot coffee pours off the table and into his lap and he shrieks like he's a girl in a horror movie and Derek laughs because now he's got a free pass to fuck up something small. "You okay?"

Stiles takes a moment to dab at the wet spot on his leg as their waitress comes over to help clean up their table, and then groans. "Yeah. I mean, the color's coming out of my jeans so my skin's probably blue underneath, too. It's cool. I mean, as long as you're willing to screw a Smurf."

Derek pauses with a bite of pancake held up near his mouth dripping syrup and swallows roughly. "I could definitely be screwed by a Smurf. If he's willing." And he watches Stiles' face because most guys see him as the alpha male and the guy who only tops and he will top. Totally will. But his love of cock goes far beyond loving his own.

There's awe in Stiles' eyes as he sits down, grimacing when his hand sticks to the seat. "Dude, how are you so perfect for me? This is not even fair."

He wants to say something to negate Stiles' words, but Derek can't because he said 'perfect for me' which is an altogether different thing that Derek knows that he can't define. And Stiles is kind of perfect for Derek, too. But, there are some things that have to be wrong and he can't help but try to list them. "I don't even like the music you play."

"Neither do I." Stiles cuts his pancakes up before pouring his syrup along the cut edges. "I like the DJ thing and I love taking all of that absolute crap that sells like crack and putting a beat to it that makes it tolerable. What do you listen to, anyway? Barry Manilow?"

"Queen. Whitesnake. Pink Floyd. Rolling Stones. " Derek rolls his eyes at himself. "I listen to a lot of stuff that was popular before I was even born, I guess."

Stiles cracks a smile and laughs, his long legs splayed out under the table and nudging against Derek's ankles. "Still kind of perfect."

Derek is shoveling his pancakes into his mouth faster than he's probably ever eaten anything before and it's cool because it's pretty much the same pace that Stiles is keeping and before he even realizes it, he's full and slapping enough money on the table for everything, a decent tip, and then a little more, and he's pulling Stiles up from where he's eating his last bite and wondering what patience feels like because he sure as hell doesn't remember.

They get back in Stiles' Jeep and Stiles inhales sharply. "My place?"

"Yeah." Derek shares a large apartment with his sisters which isn't horrible because the rent is cheap and their family is that type to tease each other a lot because of their closeness, but the walls aren't nearly as thick as he wants for when Stiles drives into him. He doesn't care if strangers hear, just not his sisters.

The drive is made even more tense because the Jeep's a manual so Stiles has to manhandle the gear shift a lot as they seem to hit every stop light on the way. It's not a long drive, really, it's just that Derek's pretty sure that anything longer and he might have suggested trying out the backseat and he _is_ too old for that. Still, they get there and they get out too quickly and Stiles stumbles and Derek slams the door a little but they get to the door and Stiles leads them in and down the hall to the third apartment on the right and lets them both inside before locking the door behind him and inhaling sharply as Derek pulls off his shirt. "The bedroom's right behind you. I just need to, uh, grab something and I'll be right there." He pauses to look Derek over once. "And go ahead and get naked? I'd like that. You. Naked." He lifts his eyebrows and heads off toward the kitchenette.

Derek flips on the light in the room and takes a deep breath as he tosses his shirt in the corner and works on sending the rest of his clothes to join it. When he's completely naked, he lays down on the bed on his stomach and tries not to rut too much against the blanket. It works... to a point.

Stiles comes in a moment later and lets out a soft moan before putting two bottles of water down on the nightstand and starting to take his own clothes off. His thighs are marked with blue from his jeans, obviously new, with a particularly dark patch where the coffee had spilled, but Derek is still kind of in love because Stiles is suddenly naked and touching him. He traces Derek's tattoo, fingers catching at the ends of the spirals, and then runs his fingers down Derek's back until he's just brushing the top of his ass. "You sure I get to fuck this piece of art?"

Groaning, Derek pushes back against Stiles' hands. "If you get a move on. Yes."

The drawer of the nightstand opens and Derek watches Stiles pull out lube and a condom and then there's the click of the cap and one slick finger pressing between his cheeks and Derek spreads his legs wider and groans as that finger slips inside to the second knuckle and curls slightly and then another is teasing at his rim and quickly gaining entry. This part he does to himself: the quick open so he can fuck himself with a toy to some kind of completion that doesn't feel like a job. It's been a while since he had honest-to-goodness sex, but his orgasms from that are always so much better than the ones from just jerking off. Plus, there's always that thought that he might have a moment like this where that quick open with benefit him. Stiles gets a third finger in him and Derek can feel where he's pulling against the rim and he's flaring open and he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees and looks back over his shoulder with a grin. "Ready," is all he says, panting slightly.

Stiles rips open the condom package with his teeth, but he's quick to get it on and slick it up with the rest of the lube on his fingers and then he's between Derek's legs and sliding along between his cheeks for a second with a groan before pressing the head of his cock against Derek's entrance. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Please!" Derek gasps and Stiles starts to slide in. There's no real burn, just that initial tension that goes away entirely as Stiles hits his prostate. The room echoes with the shout that Derek makes at the sensation, but then Stiles' hands are clamped onto his hips and he's managing to keep the angle as he starts his thrusts and Derek is sure that nothing that has ever happened to him is as good as this one brief moment and it's quickly becoming too much, but he doesn't care. If he comes and Stiles doesn't yet, it'll work out.

The quickening of sensation is building and building and Derek can feel the rhythm that Stiles' hips are keeping as though it's trying to override what his heart is doing and it's unlike everything. He's had good sex, but this is great sex. This is everything coming together perfectly and Derek realizes that there's a very real chance that he's maybe on the very of passing out from the pleasure. And when he does come a moment later completely untouched, it's touch and go for a second as black edges his vision. His voice echoes off the walls again and Stiles lets out a huff of laughter as his fingers dig deeper into Derek's flesh and then he loses his rhythm and his hips jerk before he's finally still for a moment before he pulls out, two fingers coming up to press back inside of Derek that he's grateful for because he doesn't like the come down of the sudden completely emptiness. 

Derek can hear the snap of the condom as Stiles pulls it off, and the soft huffs of his breath as he relaxes, and then he's empty and Stiles is wiping him down with a t-shirt and pushing him over to the side of the bed that doesn't have a wet spot and handing him water and Derek's not sure it's love, but damn does it feel like something he wants for a lot longer than just a few days. "I edit textbooks for a living," he says suddenly because he realizes they don't actually know much about each other.

"That is..." Stiles opens his own water bottle as he kicks the blanket down and lays down next to Derek. "Awesome! I bet you know a bunch of useless trivia from them."

"A poll done of cannibalistic societies revealed that the female forearm is the preferred part to eat." Derek remembers it from a sidebar in a psych text.

Stiles grins and takes a big sip of water and lets one hand rest against his stomach. "When I was a kid, I used to think I had a twin that I ate in the womb or something because my parents always told me I was huge when I was born, but so far they haven't found any human examples of intrauterine cannibalism, though it does happen with stuff like fire salamanders which is awesome but horrible. And I met a cannibal once, briefly, because some guy kind of went crazy and started eating people but got with it enough to go turn himself in and I happened to be bringing my dad his lunch and the guy actually asked me if I thought a salad could be as good as a foot."

Derek frowns at the story, but it doesn't stop him from drinking half of his water before responding. "So, now that we know the sex is that good, can I assume you'd be willing to do this more often?"

"I'd be insulted if you thought anything else, big guy." Stiles winks and then reaches over to smack his hand gently against Derek's ass. "I actually only work Friday through Sunday unless there's a special thing or I get hired out for something else, so we can maybe get breakfast tomorrow? I don't know. The editing thing... Do you go to an office for that or what? Because you, uh, don't look like an office type of guy."

"I work from home and set my own hours," Derek says with a smirk. "If you want breakfast with me, are you assuming I'm staying the night?"

Stiles licks his lips and moves in closer. "Hoping, actually. Because I just bought a four pack of new toothbrushes and I wouldn't mind one of them being yours."

"Okay." Derek laughs at himself and covers his eyes for a moment. "I'm going to have to thank my sisters for making me go out dancing with them, aren't I?"

Snorting, Stiles pokes Derek's hip. "At no point did you dance. But, next Friday? You can come and stand next to me and I'll teach you a little. And then maybe you can come home with me again?"

"Yeah," Derek says, wincing at the breathiness of his own voice. "I'd like that. And maybe you can meet my sisters. I kind of already told them about you and then avoided them because I wasn't ready to answer questions."

Putting his water down, Stiles closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Let's talk about all of that over breakfast. Sleepy."

Derek pokes his shoulder. "Brush your teeth first and then sleep. Drinking water isn't a substitute after those pancakes."

"I'd say you're no fun, but you've already proven otherwise." Stiles laughs and Derek is taken by the sound once more. The puzzle of life shouldn't work the way is does, but Derek is benefiting from it for once so he's not going to fight it. He's at ease and come-dumb for the second time in as many days and there's something to their relationship already that is making Derek happy. His whole family is fond of telling him what a grump he is no matter how much he swears that's just how his face looks, but this happiness that he feels swept away in... that's the new thing here that's making his face ache from smiling so much. It's perfect... for him. And perfect for Stiles. And maybe, just maybe, perfect in a way that worked for both of them.


End file.
